


The Truth in Dreams

by Macx



Series: Denuo [74]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story idea was born out of the rather innocent words from caerulea_cat, which where (quote): I almost didn't read this series when it first premiered. I thought, "Great. A "paranormal" story. House is probably the long-lost prince of some magical kingdom and Wilson is his talking unicorn." (end quote).</p><p>This is the result of that mutated plotbunny that was written within twenty-four hours of the famous words ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth in Dreams

 

The forest shone in a golden light as the sun rose to its highest point. The land of New Jersey had seen a spectacular summer so far and the harvest would be plentiful in autumn. Walking through the fresh green, the remnants of last nights thunder shower bathing the leaves in shiny drops, Gregory House heard the unmistakable sound of horses.

House was a healer, a master of his chosen profession, and while his healing skills were renowned throughout the kingdom, he really didn't like to interact with people. He lived in his cluttered abode at the edge of the forest, only interested in strange illnesses. A runny nose would be treated if he had really nothing else to do, but a strangely colored boil would keep his attention.

Three riders appeared before him, all dressed in expensive garb, and he stopped, scowling at them as they blocked his way. Leaning on his walking stick, he searched their faces to find the leader, but there seemed none obvious.

One was a young blond, with the fashionable longish hair of this time. He sat on a magnificent steed, probably royal breed. He wasn't a leader. Nor was the young woman next to him on her similarly powerful bay, her long hair bound back. She was wearing glasses. The dark-skinned third rider exuded the air of leadership, but House doubted he was. Right now, maybe. But not when they went back to whatever place they had come from. Like the others he was a follower, not a leader.

Thinking about it, House deduced that they had to be from the Royal Court. No one in his sensible mind dressed like this just for fun. All that expensive silk and wool, the clasps and straps, and those white pants stained easily.

He smirked.

"Your Majesty!" the woman exclaimed.

And deluded, House thought. Great. Probably the result of too much inbreeding. That was always the trouble with royal blood.

"You're in my way," he replied instead. "It's not your road alone."

"You are him!" the dark-skinned one added, looking delighted.

House scowled more. "What are you going on about?"

"Your Majesty…" the woman breathed again, eyes sparkling.

"You really think he's the long lost heir to King John's throne?" the blond wanted to know.

House listened to their excited babble, deciding that, yes, incest had really done its deed here.

He started to walk around them, but they doggedly followed, their horses crowding him.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"You are Prince Gregory!" the dark-skinned one said. "Son of King John and Queen Blythe."

"Prince? You really lost your marbles. How about you go and pester someone else with your madness."

"But, My Lord…" the woman protested.

The blond got in his way, looking excited. "We searched high and low for you. We combed all the lands of the King and finally found his lost son!"

"I'm not lost. I've been here the last twenty years or so. If you had opened your eyes and looked, you'd have seen me sooner. And my family is none of your business."

"You are Prince Gregory. I can see the resemblance."

House sighed deeply. Lunatics. All three of them.

"Forgive us, My Lord," the dark-skinned one said, bowing slightly. "We are the three Seekers of the Two Kingdoms. We were sent out a long time ago to find the king's only son, who was lost to him."

"Misplaced him, huh?" House muttered and pushed past him. "There's a perfectly good psychic on the other side of the forest. Go ask her. She's got a great crystal ball."

"My Lord…!" the woman cried.

"Oh, stop that Lord business. I am not your Lord."

There was the sound of new hoof beats and House rolled his eyes as a shiny white unicorn breached the forest thicket and stepped out onto the road. It was a proud and beautiful creature, with a long, dangerous looking horn on its forehead. Eyes the color of the deepest brown House had ever seen, took in the assembled riders. The elegant and long neck curved a little and nostrils flared.

"House?" it queried.

The voice was male, pleasant, and it held a quizzical quality. House had known the unicorn for a long time now, valued his friendship and support, like he valued him for other reasons, too.

"Ignore them. They're the result of too many years of royal inbreeding."

The blond looked offended, the woman just mystified, and the dark-skinned one was simply ogling the unicorn.

"Can you come and polish my hooves?" the unicorn asked plaintively. "You promised."

It lifted a cloven hoof and the expression in the brown eyes was that of a begging puppy.

"What is that?" the dark-skinned exclaimed.

"His name is Wilson. And it would do you good to introduce yourselves, too," House snapped. "Unicorns like politeness."

"Then why am I putting up with you?" Wilson asked, amusement in his voice.

"Because you are into pain."

"That must be it."

"Forgive us," the woman hurried. "I am Lady Allison Cameron of the Two Kingdoms. These are Lord Eric Foreman, His Majesty's advisor, and Lord Robert Chase, Ambassador to the Kingdom of Down-Under."

House frowned. He had heard of the mystical Down-Under, a world where strange animals roamed.  
"What do they want?" Wilson stage-whispered.

"Babbling something about the long lost prince."

"Who?"

"Me."

Wilson snickered. "You?"

"Oh stop it."

"But it is true," a new voice rang and a woman in a rather revealing dress appeared in a shower of sparkles. The cleavage alone had at least two men ogle. Wilson was dancing nervously around House, trying not to look.

"You're a unicorn. Get a grip," House snarked.

"I'm still a man and can appreciate the sight of a beautiful woman."

"Who are you?" Lord Foreman asked.

"I am Prince Gregory's fairy godmother," the woman announced. "It was me who brought him to safety that night, who hid him with a family of common people."

House frowned at her. "You kidnapped me."

The fairy godmother smiled benignly. "It was for your safety. You grew into a good man."

"Sarcastic, misanthropic, snarky, with a bastard attitude," Wilson the unicorn supplied.

House shot him an evil look.

"But a genius," the mythical being added as if in an afterthought.

The light of the fairy godmother seemed to grow around her form, her long, curly hair flowing in waves. House had to shield his eyes and turn his face away, but the light was still too bright. He heard the pleas of the three inbreds, he heard Wilson's call for him to help polish his hooves, and then there was only the feeling of a mattress underneath him and a blanket covering his body. Movement at his side alerted him to his bed partner, and he blinked into the twilight of dawn coming in through the semi-closed blinds.

He sat up slowly, one hand almost instinctively coming to rest over his scarred thigh. But there was no pain. He had been pain-free for a long time now. Scrubbing a hand over his stubbled face, House tried to make sense of his dream and finally shook his head.

"Damn curry," he muttered. He really shouldn't have had that last serving.

Wilson made a quizzical noise from the other side of the bed, a mix a grunt and his name, slurred from sleep.

"Go back to sleep," House said gruffly. "Wacko dream."

Wilson blinked his eyes open, looking deliciously semi-awake, his hair mussed, unshaven, and dressed in only his pajamas. House grinned as the image of the unicorn overlapped with that of his lover.

Ri-ight.

His lover yawned, curled up under the blankets. House was tempted to lean over and kiss him, but he caught himself and slid out of bed, following a call of nature.

Really weird dream.

Cuddy the fairy godmother. And the three Seekers of the Two Kingdoms. What a joke. Bad curry and what it did to your mind.

Coming back from the bathroom, House looked at his dozing lover, smiling fondly. He was tempted to get back to bed and sleep another hour, or just enjoy having Wilson there and sleeping, but he felt too awake and too grossed out by his dream. He went into the kitchen and started the coffee machine. Settling in his couch chair a little while later, a mug of the heavenly brew in his hands, he tried to forget the remnants of unicorns and lost princes.

"You're an early bird," a sleep-rough voice startled him half an hour later when he was through his second cup.

House turned his head and smirked at his still very deliciously rumpled lover. "And you're still the walking dead. Long night, Jimmy?"

Wilson grimaced. "There was this insatiable guy who kept me awake with his indecent proposals."

"Tell me more. Sounds steamy," House purred.

Wilson walked over to him, leaning down for a brief kiss. "Bad dream?" he asked seriously.

"Wacko. Weird. You were a talking unicorn. And you wanted your hooves polished."

"Huh?"

"Told you."

"I really don't want to know more about your psyche," Wilson replied.

"You know more than others, Jimmy. You're an empath." House ran a teasing caress over one bare arm.

"That means I know all your dirty little thoughts," Wilson replied.

"They're not so little."

It got him a smile and Wilson stepped back to walk into the kitchen. He got himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the door jamb, gazing at House, a faint smile on his lips. House met the dark eyes.

"When are you going in?" Wilson asked.

"Late."

"So it's as usual."

"Yep." He emptied his cup. "It's not like the fairy godmother expects me any sooner. Would probably give her the shock of her life, throw her off-kilter, change her view of the world."

"Can't have that," Wilson commented.

He headed for the bathroom.

"Who's the early bird now?" House called.

It got him a smile, then the door closed and the shower was turned on. House decided against a third cup and limped to his bookcase instead, going through the spines until he arrived at a specific book. He had bought it out of interest, not for medical reasons, and when he looked up 'unicorn', he started to smile as he read the description.

 _'The unicorn is the only fabulous beast that does not seem to have been conceived out of human fears. In even the earliest references he is fierce yet good, selfless yet solitary, but always mysteriously beautiful. The unicorn is the uncatchable creature, and his single horn was said to neutralize poison.'_

"Gotcha," House murmured, still smiling.

Wilson came out of the bathroom, shooting him a mystified look as House watched him with a knowing smile and quite some satisfaction. The oncologist didn't ask. He probably put the smile down to something only House knew was amusing, and continued into the bedroom to dress.

Yes, he had caught the unicorn, the handsome and fierce and good and strong unicorn. And the unicorn had started to help him heal.


End file.
